The Department of Spectral Affairs
by 800 words of heaven
Summary: "Welcome to the afterlife, Regulus Black."
1. Darkness

Everything was dark.

Were your eyes open? Closed? You knew it wouldn't make a difference: there was no light. There never was.

You knew your fate the moment you worked out the Dark Lord's secret; your only chance of glory scribbled on a scrap of parchment hidden in a fake locket at the bottom of bowl containing only pain sequestered in a cave carved of death.

You're surprised at the length of that last thought, but you shouldn't be. Bitterness courses through your veins, not entirely because of the wretched potion. Bitterness and regret: old friends now, although you're barely twenty-one.

Your limbs are being pulled down, down. The hands that drag you no longer feel clammy, their grip indistinguishable from the cold water's embrace. It's everywhere, the water. It billows your hair, presses your skin, invades your nostrils. How long until it conquers all of you? You can't hold your breath forever.

You don't want to hold your breath forever.

You gasp. Coldness rushes in. Your limbs thrash. Not even the Inferi care now. They never care for their own.

Your body tries to save you. You sputter. You wish that you could stop your body trying. The time for saving has long passed. It is too late.

And still you fall. Down, down.

How deep is this lake? You reason that it must be deep; it is home to many of the undead after all. But perhaps they're packed close when no one disturbs their treasure. It's your treasure now, forever out of the Dark Lord's reach. There's a fleeting sense of smugness at the thought. You hope it hurts when the locket is destroyed. And to think the Dark Lord deemed himself worthy to taint such an heirloom of his House. But no more. Kreacher would destroy it. Its ugliness would be no more.

Your lungs are filling with water. You are sure that this is happening. Why else would you feel yourself splintering? The distance between you and your body yawns into a chasm. The distance between you and your earthly life is already a distant shore on the dark side of a choppy sea.

You still drift down, down. Was this death? An endless fall? You could imagine worse. It could get monotonous after some time, but endless boredom was preferable to endless pain.

 _This is it_ , you think. This was Death. This was what lay in the great beyond. Maybe you'd eventually meet someone during the drop – you wouldn't see them, obviously. But you'd meet. And then you'd fall together. You hoped for a certain someone. If not in Life, than perhaps…

Perhaps the fall would stop, and she would be waiting.

You close your eyes – your soul's eyes, you suppose. And you drift into nothingness.

* * *

It's warm. Too warm.

Polished hardness under my palms. Worn socks around my toes. Ghostly breeze along my nape.

My eyes snap open.

Brightness. Colour. Sharpness. Clarity.

Person.

"Welcome to the afterlife, Regulus Black."

Not the end.


	2. Confusion

"Where am I?" Regulus asked. One moment, he'd been falling, falling… falling.

And now, a stranger was welcoming him to the afterlife.

The man seated across the large wooden desk gave a small cough. "All in good time, Regulus. But first, I'm –"

"Am I dead?" Regulus asked bluntly. Apparently, delivering a debilitating blow to a madman's desperate quest for immortality, followed in quick succession by a rather feeble attempt at fighting the Inferi, had stripped him of the little patience – ant tact – he had.

"Yes," the man said, clasping his hands together and placing them firmly on the table.

It was difficult to place the man's age, his bronze skin giving little away. He was dressed rather formally in a well-tailored vest, and a _cravat_ of all things, his coat hanging off the back of his chair. Whatever was the light source in this office – and it _was_ an office, his senses told him as they began to catch up with the situation – cast deep shadows under his eyes and nose. The overall effect wasn't sinister, exactly, but Regulus could tell it was designed to command attention and respect. His brief time amongst the Death Eaters had taught him a great many things.

"Then what are you doing here?" Anger began to stir in the pit of his stomach. This couldn't be it. He couldn't have sacrificed his goddamn _life_ , just to end up sitting opposite a man he didn't know in an office he didn't recognise. After all he'd seen, after all he'd done, he deserved some _peace_.

The man sighed. "This part is always rather awkward, I'm afraid."

Another feeling rumbled to life: foreboding. Nothing this man was about to say was going to mean anything good for Regulus.

"Regulus, you're dead. This is your afterlife." The man looked directly into Regulus' eyes, and the intensity of his gaze suggested that there was some deeper meaning behind these words.

But Regulus _really_ wasn't in the mood for any games. "Yes, I _know_."

Leaning forward, the man continued. "You've been selected to be part of a prestigious program. Here, you'll be given an assignment to complete. These assignments require the special – how should I say this? – _gifts_ that one acquires upon their death to be fulfilled."

Regulus stared. This was… absurd.

"This is absurd!" he cried out. " _This_ isn't the afterlife!" No, the afterlife was supposed to be clouds and angels, or fire and brimstone; not some dapper man explaining that he'd have to do what sounded like homework _now that he was dead_.

The man sighed again. "I'm afraid this _is_ the afterlife. _Your_ afterlife."

"And what exactly is _that_ supposed to mean?" Regulus asked, mimicking the haughtiness he'd seen Lucius Malfoy wear like a second skin.

"It _means_ this is where your actions have lead you."

Foreboding and anger coalesced into one. Dread.

His expression must've given him away, because the man gave a small, pitying smile, and said, "Welcome to the Department of Spectral Affairs."

* * *

 **AN: Hello! It has been a** _ **very**_ **long time since I updated this story, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I felt inspired. This chapter, like the last one, is exactly 500 words. Each chapter will (hopefully) continue in this way. I was inspired to give this format a go after reading Pixileanin's story** _ **Game Over**_ **(which is excellent). You should all check it out! This is a fun challenge, not something I've tried before. Would love any and all feedback!**

 **Adios, amigos! :D**


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